Just Over the Hill
by Quietus
Summary: A horrible sickness spreads throughout the town of South Park, killing new born babies. Will Stan have to choose to save his friends and family...or his own life?
1. Part One

Disclaimer: I don't own anything 'cept my ideas, damn disclaimers...

A/N: Hey y'all! Sorry, it's been awhile since I posted a story on My computer broke about a month ago, so I could only review stories on computers at the library...evil library...Anyhoo, I've been thinking about writing this story for awhile. Enjoy...Oh, quick note, the characters are around 23 years old here...

**Just Over the Hill**

**PART ONE**

Stan sighed and slowly got out of his blue car. The sky was slate gray, and it looked like it might rain soon. He shivered and wrapped his coat tighter around him. As he walked through the entrance of Hell's Pass hospital, he saw a couple sitting in the waiting room. The woman was sobbing and holding something in her arms. Stan heard the man whispering to her, "It'll be alright hon."

Stan could feel a chill crawl up his spine as he caught a glimpse of what the woman was holding. A baby. A dead baby. One of them...

Stan reflected over the past few weeks as he sat down on a chair in the waiting room. It had been a normal Saturday morning when Kenny had died. Nothing unusual, just the same routine: "Oh my god, you killed Kenny!" followed by "You bastards!"

And, of course, the next day, Kenny was perfectly fine. Or so it seemed like. Kenny had looked tired, more than usual. He wouldn't eat his breakfast, he fell asleep in church, he wouldn't talk to his friends...then he died again that night. No reason, he just died in his sleep.

And, right on schedule, he was alive again the next day. But he even looked more tired, more...different. And, again, he died in the nighttime.

This went on for a few days, Kenny's health growing steadily worse...then, one day, he didn't wake up. His mom found him the next day, eyes wide open staring at the ceiling. His skin was pale, and his hands were clenched in tight little fists. His teeth were missing, too. That was something that Stan never understood.

Unusually, the same day that Kenny died so did half the babies in the town. Perfectly healthy babies one minute; cold dead corpses the next.

That's how it's been for the past few weeks. Some babies survived the mysterious illness...but most didn't.

"Umm...sir?" Stan quickly looked up. There was a lady with silvery hair and (rather ugly) square glasses perched on her nose looking at him from the front desk. "What are you here for?"

"Uh, I'm here to see a friend...last name Brofloski." Stan said, brushing some black hair away from his eyes.

"Brofloski...Brofloski...oh, yes, Room 663."

"Thanks." Stan muttered, getting up to leave. He turned to look once more at the crying woman. The ugly glasses woman had taken the baby from the couple and was wrapping a purple sheet around it. She looked at Stan and shook her head. He turned his head quickly and started up the hospital stairs.

He soon reached Room 663 and quietly opened the door. Inside Kyle was looking out the window and Bebe was lying asleep on the bed.

Kyle turned around when Stan entered the room. His eyes were red and puffy.

"The baby...it had the illness. For a second...Bebe and I thought it would live. Her eyes opened, Stan, she looked at me...but...then she stopped...breathing...and they were closed..." Kyle had begun to cry.

"I'm so sorry, dude." Stan stood in the middle of the room and stared at his best friend. He noticed that Kyle was holding the dead baby. Its hand was hanging off the side of Kyle's elbow. It was tiny and pale. Unnatural blue veins covered it. It was curled in a tiny little fist...just like Kenny...

"Bebe was really looking forward to Elizabeth...that's what we named her...we even turned the guest room into a little playroom for her. We...painted it pink, and puts up some little bear wallpaper, heh. It's amazing how things can change so quickly..." Kyle got weepy again.

Stan walked over to Kyle and put his hand on his shoulder. He looked out the window. It had begun to sprinkle lightly. All the houses looked the same from up here, all the same shape, color. He could see the cemetery where all the little baby bodies were buried. They were running out of room, he heard the gravedigger saying to a man, last time he visited. Recently they had to put two babies in one grave, to save space. It just wasn't right.

Stan let his eyes run over the small Colorado town. He spotted Cartman, walking along the road, probably cursing because the stupid fatass forgot his umbrella again. Stan remembered a memory from when times where happier.

Cartman had been bragging that he was going to be a millionaire someday, and probably own an entire Cheesy Poof factory. Well, when the day came when Cartman had his job interview, the first thing he said when he came back was "I...hate...you...guys...so...much..." The owner of the company had said that the only thing that Cartman was useful for was washing the toilets. They had teased Cartman for weeks after that.

"I have to call my dad." Kyle muttered, tugging Stan back to the present time.

"I'll leave, then." Stan turned to leave.

"Stan...thanks, man. I really appreciate you taking the time to come see us."

Stan nodded and half-smiled. He heard Kyle give a shuddered sigh as he left the room. As Stan walked down the brightly-lit corridors of the hospital, he thought about the illness. Why did it only infect half of newborn babies born in South Park? What (or who, a voice in the back of his head said) caused it? Was there a cure? He wondered why he never asked himself these questions before. The shock from Kenny's death and the town's other problems must have pushed all other concern's from his mind.

Instead of taking the stairs to the first floor, Stan instead made his way toward the elevator. The doors were about to close just as he stepped on. Inside was one of the hospital doctors. Stan nodded at her and stepped inside. He had a strange feeling like he knew the doctor, but he couldn't think of who she was.

Stan tried to ignore her and focused on his shoes instead. A song played on the elevator radio.

"I don't wanna close my eyes... I don't wanna fall asleep 'cause I miss you baby...and I don't wanna miss a thing..."

He could feel the doctor looking at him, but he continued ignoring her.

"Stan? Don't you recognize me?" she said.

Stan looked up at her. She had short black hair with bangs stopping just above her gray eyes. Stan thought...

"Wendy? Whoa, for a second I didn't really recognize you...you have a different hair style." Stan said.

"Well, yeah, I traded in my purple barrette for a white lab coat and a more fashionable hair style, heh heh." Stan blushed slightly after hearing her laugh again.

"I barely recognized you myself...your hairs really...really...bushy." She stuttered.

There was a break in the conversation. Stan remembered that this was really the first time they talked in about 13 years. After Wendy broke up with him, he didn't see her until the 8th grade, where she completely ignored him. But why wasn't she ignoring him now, 10 years later, when they were only a few feet away from each other? Wendy could have easily pretended he wasn't there, and it would be like the never met at all...

The elevator doors opened slowly. Wendy smiled at him." This is my stop. See you later, Stan." "See you, Wendy."

And that was that. Stan wondered how many years would he have to wait before they talked again? Maybe next time, she, instead of dawning a white coat, would be carrying a crying child or two and complaining how her husband never helps with anything around the house.

_(Two dead children in her arms...")_ a tiny voice in the back of his head said.

Outside of Hell's Pass, it was really starting to pour. Stan quickly ran to his car and got in. How many accidents would there be today, because of this weather?

Driving along the lonely South Park road, he saw the small cemetery where they buried the babies. Stan parked the car in the cemetery parking lot and got out. Why was he doing this? Where was he going?

Of course, he knew exactly where he was going. Stan held his umbrella above his head and began the short walk across the muddy cemetery to the only tombstone with an angel upon it.

As he walked, Stan caught glimpses of names and dates on passing tombstones.

_Timothy Tolkien, February 1, 2007 8:00 PM-February 1, 2007 8:02 PM_

_Tape Scotch, June 11, 2007 2:27 AM-June 11, 2007 2:29 AM_

_Genevieve Tweak, October 27, 2007 5:59 PM-October 27, 2007 6:00 PM_

Stan wasn't there when the town had voted on adding the time of death to the tombstones. It was the only way, they said, to identify how long the baby was alive. Stan reached the last tombstone in the plot. It was, as he mentioned before, the only tombstone with an angel on it.

_Kenny McCormick, January 1, 1990-September 30, 2007_

The inscription on the tomb read:

**_Heaven has taken thee in from the cold earth; now spread your wings and fly_**

Stan Marsh sat down on the muddy grass and cried.

**PART ONE END**


	2. Part Two

Disclaimer: I don't own anything...DAMN DISCLAIMERS!!!

A/N: Hey y'all! Thanks for all the neat-o reviews. Anyhow, this is part two of **Just Over the Hill**. The mystery continues...enjoy...

**Just Over the Hill**

**Part Two**

The next morning was cold and foggy. Stan lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't want to get up, but he didn't really want to rest either. He couldn't, after the dream he just had. It was about Kenny...Stan shuddered with the horrible memories of the night previous images pounding in his brain. He heard the mail boy ride up on his bike and throw the paper at his door.

"Paper." Stan muttered, sitting up in his bed. Without even bothering to put some pants on, he walked down the stairs and toward the front door to retrieve his paper.

"What are you looking at?" Stan glared at his image in a passing mirror. He had gotten into the habit of talking to himself.

"Huh? Is there something you want to say?"

His own cold gray eyes and shaggy black hair were his own, but the words he spoke next weren't.

"Help me."

Stan took a step back from his reflection. Why had he said that? Was he going...no, not yet anyway. That was too early. His pupils dilated. He felt a coldness run down his spine. What was going on?

"Stop it. You just shut up. Shut up!" Not conscious of what he was doing, Stan took a vase off the table next to him and furiously threw it at the mirror. His reflection shattered into a million pieces all over the carpet.

"Damn." He muttered, opening the front door. Cold wind greeted him as he reached down toward the paper.

"Mysterious Illness Sweeps City of San Francisco." Stan read the headlines aloud. He quickly scanned the page:

"...64 babies born to healthy mothers were all dead less than two minutes later. Officials still trying to find cause of deaths while families mourn. Detective Theodore Cornwell believes the illness is another form of the Black Plague that killed thousands in Europe during the fourteenth century..."

Stan's eyes widened. Was this the same illness that was in South Park? Was it spreading? Stan gulped and closed the front door, then winced in pain. He had stepped on a giant piece of glass, slicing his foot. He cursed and went upstairs to find a Band-Aid. He dropped the paper on the floor near his couch.

The phone rang.

"Stan, it's me and your mother calling. We've decided to, uh, stay in Hawaii for a couple more days, after all, you need quiet to study for your college paper, right? We love you son, call us back soon. Hey, look at the bellydancers-"

Just as the phone call cut off, the doorbell rang. Stan put down the Band-Aid box to open the front door.

Once he had opened the door, he was surprised to see who it was. "Shelly?"

"Yeah turd, who'd you think it would be? Look, are mom and dad home?"

"No, they're in Hawaii."

"Oh." Shelly looked sad for a split second, but she quickly resumed her mean nature.

"So, get kicked out of South Park college yet, moron?"

"No, not yet."

There was silence for a few seconds.

"...Okay, I'm gonna cut to the chase. I need to...get something from the attic." Shelly pushed past Stan and started toward the attic.

"Hey, wait-what are you getting from the attic?"

"Just some of my old junk. I, uh, have a friend who wants some of my old baby toys."

Stan heard Shelly open the attic opening. He sighed and sat down on the couch, but quickly stood up again when he realized he was sitting on his newspaper. Hadn't he dropped the newspaper...on the floor? Maybe Shelly moved it.

"But I didn't see her bend over to pick it up. Well, maybe she did it and I didn't realize it. But why would she do that? This is such a stupid conversation, so just shut up about it." Stan told himself, picking up the newspaper and throwing it on the floor again. He was just getting comfortable again when he yelped.

"A picture...of Kenny? Why the hell would Shelly leave a picture of Kenny on my newspaper?" Stan picked up the picture slowly. On the photo, Kenny's hood was off for once, but he wasn't really smiling for the photo. In fact, it looked like he didn't even know he was being photographed. He was concentrating on something to his left, it looked like.

Stan turned the picture over. On the back was a phone number. Stan dropped the picture as Shelly came running down the stairs carrying a box covered with a blue blanket.

"What is that, turd?"

"Shelly, why did you leave a picture of Kenny on my newspaper?" Stan asked her right out. Shelly raised one of her eyebrows in confusion. Stan angrily picked up the picture of Kenny.

"This picture! Are you trying to piss me off, or what? You know, if that's what you wanted to do, you could have done something less harsh." Stan was practically crying now. All those memories of Kenny came rushing back to him.

"Stan, I didn't put that picture there."

"Who did then?"

"I don't know, but it definitely wasn't ME!" Shelly proclaimed.

"Well, it wasn't me, either!"

"...I'm going now. Tell Mom and Dad I said hi."

"Whatever."

"Bye, turd."

She pushed open the front door with her foot and walked toward her car.

Stan growled and kicked the newspaper and the picture to the other side of the room."

"Why don't you stay there?" Stan yelled at the pair. He flipped on the television.

"...and now, here with us, is Doctor Wendy Testaburger with information on the mysterious illness that has struck San Francisco and the lesser known town of South Park, Colorado. Doctor Testaburger, what can you tell us about this horrible sickness?"

The camera switched angles to show Wendy sitting at a table with papers in her hands.

"Well, what we know so far might be important to finding a cure to this ailment. First off, we know that the illness can happen to anybody, healthy or not. Secondly, it seems to happen randomly, usually to only half of the babies in the hospital's we have been observing so far. All of the children, sadly, don't live past two minutes. We hope to find a cure for it soon."

"Do you have a name for this new illness?"

"We at the office have been calling it TMS, or two minute syndrome, because, like I mentioned before, the infants don't live past two minutes."

"Do you have any advice to soon to be mothers out there, in hope to prevent any more deaths?"

Wendy stared straight at the camera and was silent for a moment or two. Stan could almost hear what was going through her brain: there's no helping anyone, no advice I could give.

"Um, well, eat fruits and vegetables, and try to avoid any friend or family member who's baby might have had the illness, as we're not sure if it's contagious or not."

"Thank you, Doctor Testaburger, for that overview of the illness. In other news, a teacher at..."

Stan closed his eyes at this point and drifted off into a deep sleep.

**Part Two End**


	3. Part Three

Disclaimer: I...don't...own...anything...

**A/N: **Hello everyone! Part 3 to **Just Over the Hill** is up! Enjoy...

Just Over the Hill 

**Part Three**

****

**Flashback**

"Kenny, you look AWFUL! Come over here so I can give you some Pepto!" demanded Kenny's mom. Kenny growled inwardly and looked at his mom out of the corner of his eyes.

"I don't want any Pepto-Bismal." He muttered, turning to look out the kitchen window with solemn eyes. He felt...strange. He couldn't eat anymore; it tasted like dirt in his mouth. He couldn't sleep, no matter how many sleeping pills he took. Going about his life every day seemed to take more and more effort.

Kenny sighed and pushed the uneaten bowl of half-rotted cornflakes away from him. Rain beat down on the roof of the house as he quickly walked to his room. He had never seen weather like this before; it was raining constantly. Everything was frozen solid; ice cold. Kenny was glad that today was Saturday; he couldn't bear to go to school to face Stan, Kyle, and Cartman.

Kenny looked at his textbooks sitting in the corner. He remembered the day that he had gotten his acceptance letter to SP collage; his parents were so proud. For a few hours, anyway, before he alcohol kicked in and made them forget that they ever even had a son.

Without realizing what he was doing, Kenny walked up to his bedroom mirror. He saw a fairly pale boy with blonde hair and light blue eyes. He ran a finger down where he could see the bone in his cheek. He shivered a bit when his fingers came in contact with his skin; his face was ice cold. He pinched himself, trying to see if any color would come to his face at all. Nothing happened. He pinched his face, slapped his face, and scratched his face, but still it remained the same ghostly color as it had before.

"Freaky." He muttered, running his hands over his face again. He felt a blast of cool air behind him. He turned quickly, eyes wide. Nobody was there; just the same old bed and wooden desk as there had always been.

"Kenny..." 

"Who's there?" he demanded, turning angrily around his room. He could hear nothing except for the rain on his window. He turned slowly back to his mirror, and gasped in fear. A cold sweat began to form on his brow. He couldn't see it, but he could **feel **something in his room. He scrambled toward his door, but before he could reach it, it slammed shut.

"What do you want?" He whispered, slinking into the corner of his room, his eyes trying to focus on the thing that was causing his misery.

"_Not...now...not...today...soon."_

The sound seemed to be coming all around him. Kenny called it a sound because it wasn't a voice; it didn't sound like a voice. It was...a sound.

"W-what...what's soon? What are you going to do to me?"

"Soon...sleep..." 

Kenny felt his eyelids droop and he dropped to the ground where he had been standing, already fighting to stay alive for just one night.

**End of Flashback**

****

Stan woke up to find that his arm had fallen asleep, as well as his left leg. He winced as he tried to stand up, but ended up falling on the floor because of his leg.

Someone knocked on his door.

"Coming...hold on..." Stan said, literally dragging himself to the door. He grabbed the door handle and twisted it.

"Seriously, Stan, you should lay off the coleslaw. I'm starting to worry about you man." Cartman laughed as he walked through the door.

"You should lay off of –"Stan was about to make a remark when he saw a small brown box in Cartman's hands.

"What...what the hell is it? What is that GODAWFUL SMELL?" Stan demanded, gagging.

"You'll find out in a second. But, first, I have a question to ask you."

"Well...shoot."

Cartman looked nervously down at the box in his hands.

"Well...when I was plumbing one of the toilets at the Cheesy Poof-"

Stan snickered.

"GOD DAMNIT SHUT THE HELL UP STAN! Anyway, I was plumbing one of the toilets in the Cheesy Poof restrooms when the water stopped running. I thought that there was something in the bottom of the toilet, so I took out my plunger, and, well, I found...this."

Cartman, at this point, began to open the box he had brought with him. The smell got worse the minute the box was open all the way.

"Jesus tap dancing Christ." Stan muttered, trying not to puke. He was going to make a snide remark comparing the smell of the box to the smell of Cartman's ass when Cartman picked up what was in the box.

"Oh...dear god...I can't believe...what kind of sick joke are you trying to pull, fatass?" Stan whispered, backing away from what Cartman was holding.

It was Kenny's old red parka, ripped to shreds, stained and dripping with sewer water. A piece of _something _fell from the bottom of the coat onto the Carpet.

"It's no joke, Stan. I _found _this. Even I wouldn't be that sick to do something like this." Cartman was serious, it seemed, for once.

A thought flew through Stan's brain. The picture of Kenny, _which Shelly claimed to not have left here_, the red parka, _which Cartman pulled from the sewer_..._the babies..._what was it all pointing to?

"Kenny's house."

"What?" Cartman said, staring at Stan.

"We have to go to Kenny's house...I'll explain everything in the car."

Stan ran to the hallway table to get his keys.

"That's all right with me, just as long as we can pick up some KFC along the way."

**Kenny's Home**

****

Stan had just finished explaining to Cartman about the Shelly incident when the reached Kenny's house.

"You know Stan...I hate it when you try to go on one of these 'big adventures' of yours...it seriously pisses me off..."

"Shhh!" Stan said, knocking on the McCormick's front door.

"We don't want any!" A voice inside called.

Stan knocked again, harder this time.

"Who is it?" Kenny's dad opened the door. He looked at them in surprise. "Oh, it's you. What are you here for?"

"We want to look around Kenny's room." Stan said simply.

Kenny's dad sighed. Stan saw that he was worse than the last time he saw him...at Kenny's funeral. He had deep circles under his eyes, and he reeked of smoke and alcohol. His eyes were red, as if he had been on in. You want some waffles? We were just about to eat lunch."

"Sure-"Cartman was about the say before Stan kicked him.

"No thanks, Mr. McCormick. We just came to look at the room."

"Well...you know where it is, don't you? Hey, if you don't mind me asking...why do you want to look in Kenny's-"His voice cracked when he said his son's name. "...his room for?"

"We're just looking around...for something." Stan said vaguely. Kenny's dad shrugged and walked off into the kitchen.

Stan and Cartman walked down the hall and turned left. There was his door, unopened since the paramedics had hauled Kenny out of there. He had a poster on the front of his door saying 'Onion Rings...They Is Good' and another poster to the right of that of a swimsuit model.

"God, it smells like a poor persons room in here." Cartman snickered at his own cruel joke. Stan looked all around the room. Nothing was too unusual; there was a normal mattress near the window Stan figured this was because Kenny was too poor to own a bedpost, a couple of posters on the walls mostly of swimsuit models, a dark wooden chest in the far right corner of the room but what important things could be in a chest?, and, finally, a mirror on the right wall of the room. It was one of those long oval shaped mirrors that could flip over.

"Well, nothings here, let's go." Cartman said, starting towards the door.

"Wait! Let's look around for awhile." Stan said, making his way toward the mirror. At the top of the mirror was a small crack, leading way down to the middle of the mirror, where it stopped suddenly. Stan traced the line with his finger. What had caused it?

"Sick!" Stan muttered. He had made his way toward the base of the crack, and was startled to see a faint red smudge of something leading all the way down to the bottom of the mirror. Was it blood? It could have faded from the time of Kenny's death to now.

"Well, I'll just look over here." Cartman said, starting toward the chest in the corner of the room. Stan backed away from the mirror and sat down on Kenny's old mattress. He laid back and stared up at the ceiling. Little flowers covered the wallpaper on Kenny's ceiling, giving the room a baby-ish feeling. A yellow stain traced its way along the corner of the ceiling; Stan remembered Kenny saying that the constant thunderstorms that swept the town had left a stain on his ceiling.

"Hello boys."

Stan started and sat up quickly. Kenny's mom was at the door, looking sadly in on them. She was holding a newspaper in one hand and a pencil in the other. Stan could see that there was several ads circled on the JOBS section.

"Hello Mrs. McCormick." Cartman and Stan said at the same time. Stan had to stop himself from saying 'Kenny's mom', since that was once they used to call her.

"What are you boys doing?" She inquired, staring at them strangely. Cartman shot an angry look at Stan, as if to say "Well, it was _your _idea, explain!"

"Well...we're just...to tell you the truth, Mrs. McCormick, a lot of freaky shit has been happening around here, and it all started...the day that Kenny died. We're trying to find anything that might explain what's going on...that's why we're looking through his things."

Kenny's mom was silent. Her eyes kept darting back between Stan's shoes and Kenny's wall. She sighed, then sat down.

"Boys...I have to tell you something. I don't know if Kenny told you this already, but...Kenny was adopted. We didn't find him at a real adoption center or anything; I was just walking outside one day, and there was little Kenny, about eleven months old, wrapped in a little brown blanket and shivering. We never found out who left him there, so, we took him home." Her eyes began to glisten.

"...Kenny never told us he was adopted." Stan said slowly.

"I didn't think he would. He's just not like that; open to people, I mean. He was always such a quiet boy; my little Kenny." She paused and sniffled. "There's something else...I haven't told anybody this. Just kept quiet about it...but I guess..." She paused again and looked out the window.

"It happened about a week before Kenny died...it was a Saturday morning, I think; I don't really remember, I had some Jack Daniel's that morning...anyway, it was a Saturday, and Kenny was in his room, as usual...I was on the couch, watching the news, when I heard this loud banging coming from inside Kenny's'room. I had a real big headache, and I really didn't want to get up from the couch, so I ignored it the first time...then I heard it again. It sounded like something was being pulled across the floor or something. So I kindda fell off of the couch; landed behind it, anyways. I was about to yell at Kenny to keep I down...then I saw something..." at this point Kenny's mom stopped and closed her eyes. Stan could see goosebumps on her arms, even though the house was relatively warm.

"I saw...it wasn't really a shadow...more like smoke...crawling on the wall. It was crawling, not floating like normal smoke. I was about to get up and see if there was a fire or something, but I didn't smell smoke...so I just stayed where I was, behind the couch. Now, this part is strange...don't laugh...it _talked_...I couldn't really understand what it was saying...it was whispering, I guess. I could see it moving around the ceiling, as if it were looking for something...then...then, it _shot up _into the air, like it was being sucked or something...kindda hard to explain, you'd have to see it for yourself if you know what I mean. Anyway, after that, it was gone."

"...And what does this have to do with Kenny missing?" Cartman said.

Stan was about to kick him when Mrs. McCormick spoke.

"Because I saw it come out of Kenny's room."

"Did you check to see if Kenny was alright?" Stan asked.

"Yeah; after that..._thing_...was gone, I went straight to Kenny's room...but he was fine; sleeping, in fact. It was as if nothing had even happened; that's why I didn't tell anybody...I'm not even sure it happened myself...but, I saw what I saw."

"Wow...thanks for telling us, Mrs. McCormick." A thought came to Stan's mind. "How many times was Kenny sick, before his death?"

"Well...I don't know, it couldn't have been that many though. Kenny wasn't sick often." Mrs. McCormick looked at Stan. "Why do you ask?"

"Just a thought...can I borrow your phone?"

"...Sure, go ahead." Mrs. McCormick said hesitantly.

Stan raced to the living room to find the phone. He had been in Kenny's house so many times he practically knew it like his own home.

"C'mon...pick up..." Stan muttered after he had found the phone and dilled the number of Hell's Pass Hospital. The phone rang three times before a nurse picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Hell's Pass Hospital, how can I help you?"

"Yeah, I was wondering, are visiting hours still open?"

"Yes sir."

"Thanks, that's all I wanted to know."

"Thank-"Stan quickly put the phone down before the nurse could finish. Cartman had came out of Kenny's room and was now sitting on the couch.

"Aww, don't tell me I have to get up again, I just sat down." Cartman complained.

"Shut up and C'mon. We're going to the hospital."

****

**End of Part Three **


End file.
